


Life of Abomination

by Cheezbuckets



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Background Sorikai, Child Murder, Corpse Desecration, Gen, Inspired by Frankenstein, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, One-Sided Roxas/Hayner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26957659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheezbuckets/pseuds/Cheezbuckets
Summary: A notebook lays in an abandoned cabin with a letter from the previous resident, detailing his life and the atrocities he committed.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Kudos: 6





	Life of Abomination

_ The contents of a notebook in abandoned cabin in XXX Mountains, 18XX _

My name is Roxas Victors. Before I leave for places unknown to myself, I have decided to leave behind a record of my life and my sins. Perhaps, should anyone read this record, it will serve as a warning; perhaps I hope for those who once knew me to know what happened to me; but perhaps I simply mean to explore my path to myself in order to shed my old life that I may move on unfettered.

As a child, I wanted for nothing; I was raised in a grand manor by parents who loved me and encouraged my interests. When I was five, my parents took in an orphan named Naminé. She and I quickly grew close, and we loved each other dearly. I happily spent all of my time with her and my other boyhood friends. I was perfectly happy at that time. At least, I believed that I was, though, looking back now, I feel like, perhaps, I knew even then that there was something different in me than what was expected of me.

As I grew, I became interested in science and medicine, and my parents allowed me to spend my free time reading into the field to my heart’s content until, as a young man, I was accepted by the university of my dreams. Though it would be the first time I would be away from everyone I knew, I was too excited to worry. I bade goodbye to my family and friends and left for the university which I shall not name for fear of implicating the innocent staff in actions that were solely my own.

Natural studies and advancements in medicine captured my heart, and I became close with several of my professors who were impressed with the knowledge I held from my lifelong fascination and encouraged my experimental thinking, knowing not what I would become capable of. As I studied, I kept up steady correspondence with both sweet Naminé as well as my dearest friend, Hayner. Though I left before him, he intended to attend the same university as me, and he kept me up to date on his negotiations with his parents.

Here, now, I confess the first of my sins: for many years, I loved Hayner. My best friend for so long, he was clever and funny and had always supported me, even when we argued. I desired him carnally, yes, but I loved him more than that, so much more. I ignored and buried my feelings for many years, dismissed them as simple affection for a friend or fleeting thoughts confused by exhaustion or heat or the influence of some invisible demon. He wasn’t the only man I felt such things for through my life, but I loved him the most and for the longest. I loathed myself for these feelings even crossing my mind, but I kept them hidden deeply for as long as I could. Even now I struggle to let go of that long-held self-hatred, but I’m getting ahead of my own story.

Though it was strange and a bit lonely being apart from my family and friends, it was a small relief to be apart from my feelings for Hayner for a time. Being away from him, I threw myself into my studies to, in part, forget my own feelings and bury them deeper under piles of books. Naminé kept me abreast of events among our family, what mischief our little brother Ventus was getting up to, and our mother’s sudden illness.

My second sin: I allowed myself to get so wrapped up in my studies in order to hide from my own feelings that I never once stepped back even as my mother’s health declined. I offered things I had learned as advice to ask the doctor, and Naminé often assured me that there was no need for me to return home, yet the thought of pausing my studies never even once crossed my mind.

Until the day her letter came with frantic knocking at my door from a panting messenger, informing me that our mother was at death’s door and was begging for me to come home to hear her last wishes. I barely lingered long enough to write a letter for the university to inform them of the circumstances before hiring a cab to bring me home as quickly as possible.

The whole lonesome, quiet ride, my mind was a confused tizzy of medical books, trying to decipher what I could do for her when I arrived. Servants ushered me to her sickroom the moment I set foot in the door. She was surrounded by my father, sister, and brother. Mother weakly grasped her hand towards mine, so I rushed to her side and took it tightly, all medical thoughts fleeing my mind.

“Roxas,” she whispered, speaking an audible struggle, “I’m so proud of you. My only wish for you is for you and Naminé to be happy together.”

I was surprised, but my grief was such that I almost immediately forgot in favour of offering her comfort and reassurance as her life faded. My family and I kept vigil as her illness overcame her and, over the night, we watched her fall into oblivion.

Young Ventus was the only one who got any sleep over the next few days, worn out by his own crying.

We quickly descended into a swamp of grieving and arranging her funeral and burial. Of my friends who came by to offer their condolences, I found myself too weak to resist seeking comfort from Hayner, firm hugs and reassuring pats, and I was too distressed to feel guilt for my want. I was instead wracked with guilt for my absence during my mother’s decline and for my inability to use my education to help ease her suffering or delay her death. I expressed my guilt to Naminé and our father, but though they both tearfully dismissed my remorse, it lingered in my heart. I was sure that, if I had only left my own head sooner, I could have helped her.

It wasn’t until after her funeral that I was reminded of her final wish; Naminé, our father, and I were alone together in the sitting room after all guests had left, watching the fireplace, when Father spoke suddenly, a small, sad smile on his face.

“I’m sure you’ll want to return to the university soon.”

I hesitated but nodded. Despite my guilt, it would be worse to throw away all the work I had done after all that had happened.

Father nodded. “Your mother was so very proud of your hard work. As am I.”

I started tearing up anew, and Naminé, sitting beside me, comfortingly took my hand.

Father smiled in approval. “Ever since we took Naminé in, we knew you two were would grow up to be a perfect match. I wish for you two to be married as much as she did, but I want you to be able to finish your studies first, if that is what you chose.”

Naminé and I were both silent. This was, in a way, nothing new; our whole lives, we had been teased about our affectionate relationship, teased by peers about getting married. Yet neither of us expected that our own family seriously expected marriage of us. When our father left to try to sleep, Naminé and I lingered there alone, at first uncomfortably silent, then leaned close to each other and whispered frantically as if we were children once more. Neither of us expected this, and yet, what could we do? We couldn’t disrespect our father or dear departed mother by rejecting their expectations of us. Neither of us wanted this for our lives, yet neither of us had other prospects for marriage—I blamed my busy studies more aggressively than necessary—so what could we do?

Unsure, maybe even frightened, and still tormented with grief, we embraced before leaving to our own beds. At least we would have more time to come to terms with our inevitable wedding, to maybe discover we felt differently for each other than we thought, to try to find a bloom of romance before our nuptials, while I went back to the university. When I bid everyone farewell again, Ventus clung to my legs and cried, scared of losing his brother so soon after his mother, but I reassured him, and Naminé promised to share all of my letters with him so that he would know I was fine. The final memory of his tearful face will forever hang heavy on my heart. Then, like a child, I clung to Hayner, who had always kept a comforting smile for me through the week. He reassured me that he would be joining me within the next year, should all go well, unaware of the longing that filled me to be kissed by him, to hear him promise we would be together forever, to express my desire to elope with him.

I left with my heart tearing itself apart.

My professors offered condolences on my return and gave me a grace period to catch up, but I threw myself into my work. My fear, my grief, my guilt turned into a volatile fuel. In order to keep myself from thinking about Naminé or Hayner, I instead thought obsessively of my mother’s final moments. I read everything I could about the mechanism of death. Then my attention turned instead to the source of life. If life could be snuffed so easily, then surely there had to be a way to seize the means of creating life. There had to be a way to atone for my failure to assist her.

I went manic in my dedication to this pursuit, and when I reached the limits of the books I had access to, I turned to my own ingenuity.

Within walking distance from the university as well as the room I was renting, there was a well-populated graveyard. I did not want to spend my sparse funds buying the services of a grave robber to do what I could do for myself, nor do I think I could have reasonably afforded them, so I would steal into the graveyard in the dead of night, and quickly I found a mausoleum which I could gain entrance to without damage that would give away my presence. Bodies through the ages existed together in this place, and I was able to dedicate innumerable hours over several weeks to my twisted line of study; seeking life by desecrating the dead.

It is difficult for me to say that, after much grim work, oblivious to the world around me, I found success! Rather than being content with uncovering the secret to creating life, though, I then became possessed by seeking both proof of and utility for my knowledge. After all, I thought I had found this secret, but only among the dead; I needed solid evidence to prove my theory to be truth.

My third sin: I decided to create life.

As strenuous as my self-imposed studying had been, this was even more so. To avoid suspicion, I found an isolated building near the graveyard which had a room I could rent and collected together my private supplies and borrowed what I did not already own. Next, I would need a body to infuse with life.

I began scavenging every graveyard I could walk to for fresh corpses. My heart thrilled with excitement when I saw or heard of an upcoming funeral. Even in my hubris, I did not presume to steal a freshly dead body it its entirety and attempt to resurrect a stranger’s dear family member or a hated criminal. Even if I had wanted to, finding an entire body in perfect condition, unfettered by whatever had caused its death, would be exceedingly difficult if not impossible. Using different bodies, I could pick the perfect specimen of each body part to increase my chances of success. As I already needed to do so much work in order to accomplish this, I decided that I would create a perfect specimen with the perfect parts; a perfect human; the perfect man!

I laugh thinking back how I was so caught in the fever of creation that I forgot to have shame for my thoughts of how a perfect man would look. It wasn’t strictly from a perspective of my own attraction, but it would be a lie to deny the impact my attraction had on my decisions, and, for the first time in my life, it did not bother me! Looking back, I feel more shame for looking on the bodies of dead men and imagining the beauty of their parts because I was defiling the dead rather than because they were men. A small step in improving my own view on myself, perhaps?

During that period, I hardly had the time to sleep nor the money to eat, as renting two separate places in addition to the preserving chemicals I needed to buy took most of the money my father regularly sent for me, yet it hardly bothered me, and I failed to notice my own declining health and disregarded expressions of concern from my classmates or teachers. I was so caught up, I hardly responded to the letters that Naminé and Hayner continued to send me, and I’d hardly remember the contents a day after reading them, if I spared the time to read them at all.

I was creating a new step of the evolution of the human species, and my ego lead the design, regardless of the extra time I had to spend to find the perfect body parts; he would be tall—I managed to build him to almost eight feet despite my own diminutive height—he would be muscular yet slender, strong yet not bulky, and, what I was most proud of, I found for him a scalp of the most shocking red hair and eyes of the most stunning green. On long nights, in my room reeking of chemicals and decayed bodies, I would stare at the eyes kept in a jar and imagine building the perfect face around it as I fell asleep over my work.

I was bent to my grim task for almost a full year before the night when—at last!—he was complete! I had slept hardly a few hours over the previous week as I neared completion, but any sensation of tiredness fled from me as I stood before the meticulously bandaged body laying upon the floor! I cannot adequately express my excitement as I stood ready to infuse my creation with life!

But when he moved for the first time—oh, just the memory of the terror makes my heart race as I write this! He shuddered with every move and fluid squeezed from the seams where different cadavers had been sewn together and soaked into the bandages, which sagged when he sat up and exposed the discoloured and mottled flesh beneath. And his face! I cannot adequately express the disgust that was elicited by the sight of his face, even when still obscured by the bandages! His cheeks gaunt and skeletal, lips thin and blue! The skin of his face was taken from a single cadaver, but the gnarled seams surrounding it stood in shockingly sharp relief! And his eyes, which I had previously been so proud of salvaging, stared like a fiend, sickly discoloured sclera, the contrast between the green irises and red hair making them each seem brighter! In my compromised state at that moment, I became illogically convinced that his red hair was made of hellfire itself!

He made a noise I can only describe as the moaning of all the damned souls his patchwork body contained and lunged towards me, and I turned and ran as if pursued by every vengeful spirit whose body I had profaned over those many months. The night was cold with pelting rain, and, after a space of time I have no memory of, I passed out in the streets.

I awoke days later, aching and disoriented, but, oh, the joy I felt when my eyes fell upon Hayner sitting across my room! He was so happy to see me awaken that I temporarily dismissed my memories as a nightmare borne from my illness and simply was comforted by our reunion, yet I could not maintain the illusion for myself as he explained what had happened:

I had been found laying in the street, ice cold and unconscious, and, luckily, was recognized and taken to the home where I had been staying. The landlord unlocked my room so I could be brought to my own bed, and, by great luck, Hayner arrived in town that very morning and found my home by my previous descriptions of where I was staying, and, alarmed by my condition, he stayed with me. I had neglected his letters telling me that he had been accepted by the university and would soon be moving, but what happy news that was to wake up to!

Still, when he asked me what had happened to me, how I had ended up in the street that night, how my health had come to suffer so, I was forced to confront what I remembered of that night: the terror I had created. I lied to him, feigned ignorance and confusion, claimed my regular studies had been so captivating that I neglected my own health, but I also dared admit the other room I rented and my desire to check on its state.

Hayner protested, urging I needed food and rest before I could leave my bed, but I insisted until he relented and helped me return to that cursed place. Unsure what would be inside, I asserted that he would stay back while I went in first, and, oh, my relief when I saw no one inside! There was evidence of a commotion, equipment knocked over and chemicals spilled, but the fiend I had created was nowhere in sight! When Hayner asked why I had rented a second room, and one in a far seedier side of the city, I fabricated a story about animal dissections for personal study, and surely the strong scent of the chemicals laced with the stench of rot was enough that he did not question why I would not want that near my sleeping quarters. I feigned amnesia of the previous night and claimed my poor health must have caused me to become confused and create the mess before getting lost on the way home, and Hayner accepted the story.

I thought at that moment that the creature must have left in pursuit of me, and, surely, it had died. If it was not seen by human eyes and attacked on sight, it must have fled out of the city where it would starve, if it had not already died of exposure or been savaged by wild animals. The guilt of my creation washed away by the thought that it had assuredly been quietly dispatched by nature itself.

Despite my insistence on the outing, I quickly proved to be too weak to return to my studies, and, honestly, I was glad to stay away from any even vague reminders of what I had done. All the while I was bedridden, Hayner nursed me back to health with a smile on his face. He rented a room in the same building as I so that we would live close together, but he spent much of his time in my room for the first weeks. All of my wild thoughts and terrible ambitions had left me in the wake of my failure and the soothing influence of Hayner’s presence. He put off his own entrance to the university in order to stay at my side until I was well enough to return as well.

Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the madness I had thought I had shaken off but I dared—dared!—as weeks passed over-think every moment of attention he gave me. I had never before dared imagine that he could returned my affections for him, but in that unbroken time we spent together, his concern felt like it carried extra weight, that he went out of his way for physical closeness the same as I wanted to, that there was something more, something buried in the way he smiled at me. In the wake of the nightmare I had built for myself, I felt so happy, and I so foolishly thought that I had overcome and was happier than ever and would turn my life around!

I could no longer stomach medical studies and the natural sciences, so I followed Hayner into the study of language, and, gradually, I all but forgot the terrible things I had done. Returning to regularly exchanging letters with Naminé, spending all of my days with Hayner’s warm companionship, I was once again truly happy for a time. It was perhaps a result of the previous year of stress that I felt damn near invincible when my life seemed to be going so well, but when I later looked back, I knew that my arrogance had simply found a new avenue to bewilder and deceive me for a time.

At the peak of my contentment, I was cut down yet again by a letter from Naminé. Written in a shaking hand, she told me that Ventus was dead. Strangled and left only barely hidden in the park that he and his friends so often played. Found with the murderer’s handprint around his neck when he wandered out of sight and did not return. I was so shocked, I couldn’t tell Hayner what had happened myself, only hand him the letter to read.

I told him I needed to go home at once, and Hayner told me he would come with me. He had given up so much time in his studies for me already, I tried to tell him there was no need, I would be fine, but he reminded me that he had a break coming up, so it would do no harm to start it early, and he didn’t want to abandon me after this shock. I was overwhelmed with emotions I dared not express, so I thanked him, and, together, we took a cab to our home town. Hayner and I spoke about our shared shock and disgust at what kind of evil would kill a child so innocent and open as Ventus, compounding my own anger and grief.

However, when we passed the park where Ventus had been slain, I asked the driver to stop and Hayner to let me visit the site alone. Hayner grimly agreed, so I was unaccompanied as I walked the deceptively verdant grasses and trees, wondering how such a site of beauty could have been the stage for such a tragedy. For minutes, I cried in anger and sorrow, until motion from the trees caught my attention.

I nearly fainted in shock. It was him. He loomed among the trees, towering figure obscured by a long and tattered cloak, only his face exposed. That nightmarish face I had let myself forget, the monster I had created. He was alive, and I could barely grasp the thought. The distance and shadows obscured his features enough that my mind subconsciously twisted it into something even more horrible than I even remembered—a wicked snarl filled with both menace and glee—so much that I hardly saw him as remotely human in that moment. He stared at me, and horror rendered me frozen to the spot until he turned and ran into the foliage, in the direction of the foothills of the mountains beyond.

At once, I knew who was responsible for Ventus’ horrific murder. My terrible deeds had festered all this time before manifesting in tragedy.

I’m sure I was visibly shaken when I returned to the cab. When we got on, Hayner put his arm over my shoulders with a sympathetic look on his face. In my mind, I could only picture that nightmare, that behemoth, that devil, with his hands around poor, sweet little Ventus’ throat. My guilt over my mother’s death was a faint shadow compared to the guilt of having personally built the vehicle of Ventus’ ghastly death.

When I arrived home, Naminé and Father were waiting for me in the entrance hall, and Naminé ran to hug me.

Shaking with sobs, she apologized to me. It was her fault, she said, she was at the park with him and had let him borrow a necklace of hers to play at treasure hunting with his friends. She had hesitated, but she entrusted Ventus to take care of it. She had been painting instead of watching the children when Ventus ran off into the trees to hide. Only an hour later, when Ventus’ friends came to her and said they couldn’t find him, did she begin to worry. It took half of our household going out to comb the wooded area before his body was found, the necklace stolen.

She tearfully begged my forgiveness, but I couldn’t speak through my own tears. I knew it wasn’t her fault, how could she have possibly known that her brother had built with his own hands the murderer of our dear, sweet Ventus? Who in the world could have known to be wary of such a thing?

The entire household was shaken as we prepared yet again for a funeral.

I helped out how I could, but I was withdrawn from the others, even Hayner who was obviously worried about my health going back into decline. I could hardly think of anything but how I might as well had been the one with my hands around Ventus’ throat. I couldn’t even ease my own conscience with a confession. After all, who would believe such a story? So I came to a decision: after Ventus was laid to rest, I would find the monster I had created and avenge the poor boy. With the proof of the creature itself, dead or alive, I would confess my unforgivable crime to my family so that at least they would know the truth.

I told them only that I needed to take a walk alone, and I went back to the park, back to the place I had seen my creation. I admit, I was so distraught, I failed to think of a plan at all, and I wandered from the forest into the foothills unarmed and thinking only of repenting my mistake.

Night was falling, and the wind chilled me through as I left the trees to climb the steep mountainous paths. “Monster!” I screamed into the wind until I became hoarse. “Come and face me!”

I was out of breath and my throat sore when I had to stop at the edge of a cliff. A noise I had hardly noticed caught my attention now that I had stopped shouting, and I turned around to see him walking behind me.

I was shocked briefly by the horror before me, but my rage came to me in a rush, and I looked around until I found a rock the size of my fist and grabbed it off the ground. Tears came to my eyes as I lunged for him with a ragged, hoarse yell. I don’t know what I thought I could do, I could never have effectively reached his head to knock him out or kill him, but I wasn’t even thinking at that moment.

His brow furrowed in a frown as he easily grabbed my wrist and stopped my attack. “Don’t bother trying that,” he spoke, and I recoiled in shock, staring up at his gaunt, discoloured face.

“You can talk?”

He let go of my wrist, and I dropped the stone and backed away. Somehow, his speech did more to dissuade my attack than his size or the strength of his grip. He seemed amused by my obviously ridiculous question and nodded. “Roxas Victors, come with me.”

Again startled, I wanted to demand how he knew my name, but he turned away before I could, and what else could I do but follow?

After a short walk, I saw an old shack with broken and crudely boarded windows, and he stepped inside, so I followed. Inside, I squinted, but too little of the late evening light penetrated the holes in the structure for me to recognize the shapes within until my creation sparked a fire to life, and I gasped and recoiled at the sight of a man’s body on the dirt floor.

Me! The man who had pilfered innumerable corpses to create the hunched figure that crouched above the fire! I had the gall to be shocked and cringe away from this body!

I was shaking with horror and fury as the creature smiled with pride over this body. Here was all the proof, if I had needed any, that my creation was a murderer and therefore responsible for Ventus’ death, yet I failed to think of any way I could have dispatched him.

He looked at me, and I flinched, prepared at any moment to flee to preserve my own pitiful life. “Though I owe you nothing for the wretched life you gave me, I hope to offer this criminal’s life to soften you to my request.” While I was unable to think of a way to respond to this odd statement, he leaned over and plucked from the dead man’s hand a necklace which he then offered to me.

Though at first I shuddered to see the patchwork hand of crooked fingers come towards me, the sight of the necklace brought me to pause then step closer to grab the necklace. I at once recognized the engraving on the pendant! It belonged to Naminé! I knew at once that it must have been the one taken from Ventus at his death! I looked at my creation, and he still smiled at me, waiting for me to speak.

I could hardly manage to hold a sentence in my mind, though, and struggled to ask him, “Who is that man?”

“Nearly a week ago, I by chance saw this man strangling a child to steal this necklace from him. I thought nothing of it at first, but then I happened to be in the same place and saw you there, crying.” He shook his head, and the way his hair caught the firelight when it moved reminded me of how I had thought it resembled hellfire, and I was momentarily distracted by derision towards how foolish I had been back then. I had practically hallucinated through his awakening, and yet I so quickly accepted the desperate idea I immediately came up with that my creation had died with no evidence? What a damned fool I was. “I recognized you, of course, as you did me. So I followed you in secret to your home and confirmed that the slain boy was a relation of yours. I also heard that the murderer was not yet caught, so I decided that, as I had seen him well that day, I would find him for you. I could hardly go to your front door without being attacked on sight, even with the murderer in hand, but I thought that you would likely pursue me eventually.”

I felt sick and nearly fell, stumbling a step away. My first feelings were of relief: my creation was not Ventus’ killer, so I was not the one responsible for his death, and the true killer had been brought to his own grisly end in retribution! I clutched the necklace and wept for perhaps a full minute before I could calm myself to look back upon my creation.

He stared at me, and I couldn’t help but shudder. He was as ghastly as I remembered, especially now that bandages did not cover his countenance. His face was like a skull wrapped in skin that seemed somehow too thin and lacked the undertones of a healthy complexion. His eyes were sunken and did not sit even with each other, and the green hue seemed unnatural somehow—perhaps somehow the chemicals I had used to preserve them altered the shade I had previously found so enchanting. His nose was too large for the rest of his face and stood like the hooked beak of a carrion bird. The jaw of perfect teeth I had carefully picked for him were ironically far too straight and even and perfect, disorientingly discordant with the asymmetrical nature of the rest of his face. Around his face, it seemed the patchwork of skin had healed together, but the scarring was discoloured and swollen and had a jagged texture that seemed to mark where every suture had once been. Though the cloak he wore hid most of his body, what I had seen of his hand was evidence enough that the rest of him was as skeletal and misshapen and discoloured as his face, and from what I remembered from his creation, it was undoubtedly as disproportionate as his features.

And yet, up close in the soft light of the fire, his expression lacked the malice I had attributed to it in my last glimpse of him, and lacking the mental weakness from the time of his creation, it no longer seemed like I was looking at some wraith. He was a horrid imitation of a man, yes, but, still, he was more of a human created by a madman than a monster spawned from hell.

“What do you want?” I asked him, at long last.

“Make amends for creating me,” he said with such voracity I trembled again. “I’ve known nothing but misery being created in this form and abandoned to the cruel world, and the world has known nothing of misery from me.”

Here, he told me what he had gone through since the night of his creation. Instead of poorly attempting to remember and record what he told me that night and tell a story other than my own, I have asked him if he wants to tell his own story, and he shall.

_ At this point, the writing noticeably changes to a more loose, childlike hand. _

I scarcely remember the night I was born. I remember Roxas’ face before he ran from me, and I remember the cold. After being abandoned, I found his jacket to wrap myself in and wandered out into the streets, into the icy rain. Somehow, I found myself beyond town and sheltered by the forest, where I spent some time surviving off of the nuts and berries until I plucked the flora bare and had to move elsewhere to find food.

When I left the forest, I found myself near a house and saw the shadows of people inside, and thought that they must have food. When I approached the window to look, however, they shrieked at the sight of me, and the adults of the house ran outside with farming tools in hand and tried to beat me with them and, scared, I ran away. After some time walking, I came to a town, and, desperately hungry at that point, again tried approaching houses to see if they had something I could eat. Again, the sight of me caused screams, and the men called to each other as they ran to the streets with weapons. I wanted to beg with them that I simply wanted food, but I hadn’t learned to speak, so their shouting was nonsense to me. I was lucky to escape the mob and was forced to run away, and I took shelter in another forest. Night had fallen, and I was cold and exhausted, but, luckily, I was able to find another source of edible flora to stave off hunger and extend my miserable life.

In the first forest I had sheltered in, my water source had been a shallow stream quite covered by the trees, which did not permit reflections to be visible, however, in this second forest, I found a stream where the water was wider, deeper, and a shaft of sunlight shone upon it, and when I leaned over to drink, I was able to see my own reflection for the first time.

I suppose I do not need to relate my shock at the sight I saw. I had seen many men as they pursued me, and I was suddenly confronted by a twisted, barbaric likeness of them, and I understood why my appearance caused such fear and anger. I no longer attempted to seek out human settlements and continued to live off the land, and even learned how to hunt. Though I had fled from humans, I found that my body was strong enough to even kill bears, and I was able to survive alone for quite some time, though I continually moved so that I would not pluck an area bare. Despite my attempts to avoid them, I still occasionally was seen by human eyes and, each time, I was chased away with screams and weapons, and even when I could escape uninjured, each incident left a scar on my soul.

Then, after many months, I came upon another human house a distance from any towns, and though I knew to not reveal myself to them, a storm was raging, and I saw that a shed beside their house was unsecured, so I sought shelter within in desperation to escape the miserable cold and relentless rain. I could tell by the dust and the emptiness that the shed was not used by the owners often, if ever, so I felt secure to sleep for the night. When I awoke the next day, I felt so dry and warm that I was loath to leave, and so I lingered to explore, and—oh!—the magic I felt when I looked into a hole in the wall adjoining my shelter with the house! I could not bear to leave that place!

Though I could not yet understand their speech, it was immediately obvious that the two men living in this house loved each other. I enjoyed watching them go about their days, quiet and happy. I came to discover that the man with silver hair whose name I would learn was Riku was blind, and therefore he would stay at home and spin and weave and sew while the other, a lively brunette named Sora, would go to work, and I would quietly leave the shed to procure food for myself.

Not long into my stay, an excitement came over them, and though I at first couldn’t understand why, one day the brunette man came home with a red-headed woman named Kairi on his arm, and the three of them joyfully embraced.

I came to learn that she was foreign and they had long been waiting for her to be able to leave her home country to join them. Their happiness was so infectious, I felt genuine joy just watching them.

During the days when Sora was out of the house working, Riku would teach Kairi his and Sora’s language, and in the evenings, Sora would help her learn to read and write the language as well, and I, from behind the wall, was their second student. I caught on somewhat faster than her, but I just so enjoyed watching them that I was never bored, and the warmth they gave each other was so great it seemed to come through the crack through which I watched them to the point I felt like I was their family as well. Finding enough food for myself was a struggle, but they struggled the same, and the shared difficulty made me feel even closer. I wanted to help them as I felt they helped me, so I started performing small tasks for them when they were away or sleeping, such as chopping firewood and clearing snow as winter came. They marvelled when they saw their firewood supply easily double overnight, and wondered whether a kind spirit or fae had come to them and I cannot tell you my delight at seeing their smiles. When they were sad, so was I, but when they were happy, I, too, shared it with them.

However, I felt the distance between us just as much as our happiness and came to long to reveal myself to them so that I may truly join their family. They were so kind, so full of love, I was sure that, as long as I was careful in revealing my terrible face, they would accept me, so while I watched them go about their lives, I planned how I would show myself to them. I daydreamed of how happy we would be together.

Kairi had gotten a job as well, so I waited until a day when both her and Sora were out of the house so I could approach Riku alone. He could not be frightened by the sight of me, so I could speak to him, convince him that I meant no harm to him or his family, and he could convince Kairi and Sora to look past my appearance.

When the day came, my heart was pounding, and I was nearly shaking with anxiety as I came to the door and knocked, and Riku called for me to enter. He sat at his usual chair spinning but turned to face the door.

“Hello, sir, I hate to impose, but I have been travelling for some time and hoped to find a fire to sit and rest for a time,” I said to him, voice shaking. Even though I knew he could not see me, it was still terrifying to stand before someone.

He gave a smile and nodded. “Of course. Rest as long as you need.”

I crossed the room and crouched down by the fire but continued to look up at him as he resumed his work. “Where are you headed from here?” he asked.

“I hope to meet my family.”

“Why were you apart from them, if it’s not too personal of me to ask?”

Here I hesitated. I had prepared my story for this moment meticulously, but, still, I was so scared! “If I may be honest with you, they have never met me, for, you see, I was cursed at my birth with a terrible appearance and have never known the comfort of home as everyone I’ve met is frightened by the sight of me. But the family I speak of is kind and loving, and I hope that they will accept me as I love and care for them dearly.”

He stopped his spinning with a look of puzzlement then smiled kindly when he spoke and turned his chair towards me. “I’m sorry for your situation. I was born blind and likewise thought myself cursed, but I was lucky enough to find people who love me. Others would not accept us, but we are happy together. I cannot judge how frightening you may look, but you sound like a good person, and I hope this family will accept you for who you are and you can find happiness as I did. Is there any help I could offer you for the time being?”

Oh, my fear at that moment! I stood to steel my nerves and leaned over before him and, in my passion, grabbed his shoulders. “I must confess, I believe you can help, for the family I speak of is yours! I swear on my life I bear you and them no harm and wish only for a place where I am not attacked and feared! I beg you to speak to your family so that they may look past my appearance and give me a chance!”

His eyes widened as I spoke, shocked and perhaps even frightened by my confession and the desperation of my request, but before he could utter more than, “What?” the door behind me opened.

“Get away from him!” I heard Sora yell, and I hadn’t even turned around when something struck me across the back.

Startled, I stumbled and unwittingly knocked over Riku’s chair and fell into his spinning wheel, and I roared with pain as the spindle jabbed my arm. They were yelling to help Riku back up as I turned and they saw my face for the first time, and both Sora and Kairi gasped and recoiled and tried to pull Riku away from me. Their faces bore their emotions plainly, and they were terrified of me, desperate to “save” Riku from me.

My heart broke seeing their fear and hatred, and I ran from their house, deep into the woods, until I collapsed to the earth and wept. My one and only chance at acceptance and family was torn from my grasp because even such wonderful people were terrified by my appearance.

For days, I cried often and hardly ate, until I noticed the small book in my pocket.

I still wore the jacket I had first pulled over me when I was born. It did not fit well and had become rather ragged, but all of my clothes were ill-fitting rags I had chanced upon, and I had no reason to get rid of it. I had found the notebook in the pocket early into my life, but was unable to read, so while I kept it simply to hold onto anything I had, it served me no use. When I had learned to read from Sora, I remembered the book and read the first page or two as practice, but I was so infatuated with the family beyond the wall, the contents of the book did not interest me.

Now, in desperation to be distracted from my heartbreak, I read the book penned by my creator. I learned his name as well as extensive details of my creation. Of course, I had known since I first saw my own face that I was not like other humans, but now I had confirmation that I was not human at all. I was an abomination. I felt, for the first time, that, perhaps, the mere circumstances of my existence meant I deserved my suffering.

At that time, I was still wandering in search of food and nightly shelter. I came upon a farmstead, and when I tried to take some vegetables to eat, the farmer saw me and, of course, immediately took up a farm tool as a weapon and yelled to chase me away, screaming to his family that a monster had come to them.

For the first time, I did not run. His screams of “monster” hit me to the core, and as he came upon me, I easily pulled the weapon from his hands and grabbed him by the throat. He was a large man, no doubt made strong by his hard work, but it was no struggle for me to snuff out his life.

His family was screaming, and I was being pelted by rocks and sticks, but when I came for them, they ran from me. They had left the door to their home open, so I went inside. I had no doubt that they would come back with more men from town to kill me, and I didn’t expect that I could stand up to a mob, so I filled my arms with food and fled back into the woods. I continued until I could no longer hear distant shouts hunting for me, then I sat and ate. It was the first time in my life I had filled my stomach, and the sensation was so soothing I fell fast asleep.

I will not make any attempts to soften my own story. I continued to live from the land, but I no longer avoided human settlements. My loneliness and the remnants of my broken heart drove me to lash out, to take from them whatever I could to make up for what they denied me. If I came upon homes when no one was around, I would break in and take some food and leave without fuss, but if I was confronted, I no longer shied away. Sometimes, they would flee when I fought back, but if I got hold of them, I would kill them without hesitation. Once, I killed the parents and a teenager who had attempted to fight me, and when the younger children fled to get help, I took their food while the infirm grandparents clutched a wailing infant and cried and begged for their lives. I ignored them and simply filled my arms then left.

This did not make my life any easier, though, and now I had to run farther and hide more to avoid the mobs that came for me.

After a time, I was hunting and foraging in a forest I had never been when I heard a fuss and decided to find the source so I would not be found off guard. In the distance, I could hear the joyful shouts of playing children, but from my hiding place, I saw a man strangling a young boy. I was shocked. I had never seen humanity act so monstrously towards itself. I felt fleeting pity towards the boy, but I did not intervene and simply watched him struggle until his life left him and the man snatched the necklace that hung around his neck and fled.

A while later, I heard what I assumed to be calls for the boy, and I made sure to hide myself from the searching adults, but as I was not responsible, I felt no need to flee, so long as they could not see me. Once they found the boy, they left, so I felt comfortable to stay the night.

I was curious seeing such an act of violence, so even the next day, I lingered and peered into the empty park where the boy must have been playing with his friends, only for me to happen to see a man weeping.

Something about his appearance caught my attention, and I stared for a time before I remembered the man I had seen the night of my birth, and I was shocked to realize that I was looking at the man who had created me. I realized quickly that it was likely that he was crying for the boy who had died.

Then he saw me. I was sure it was shock that kept him rooted to the spot, staring at me. I realized that he, my creator, was my chance for salvation. I did not expect him to accept me any more easily than any other human who had seen me, so I ran away before he could get help to come after me, but I decided to bet that he would be curious or perhaps feeling guilt and would pursue me.

First, though, I thought of his sorrow, and I thought of the man who had killed the boy, so I searched the nearby estates until I saw him among them, and I overheard confirmation that the slain boy was the brother of my creator.

So, I then searched for the boy’s killer and found him hiding out in an empty barn just beyond town, and I easily killed him. I was lucky he still had the stolen necklace with him as proof of his guilt. In order to avoid his body being found, I took him to the foothills of the nearby mountains where I had earlier seen an empty shack, and I waited for Roxas to come find me.

_ The letter returns to the handwriting of Roxas. _

Though at the time he did not tell me all of the details he expressed here, I was shaken by his story. For all of my relief that he was not responsible for Ventus’ death, he was still a murderer. I had still created a killer and set it loose upon the world! My heart ached for all those I had indirectly caused pain, but at the same time, I found myself pitying the killer I had made as well for my unjustly cruel abandonment.

“What do you want?” I asked again.

“Companionship,” he said. “My loneliness and the pain of rejection has been the source of all of my crimes. You were the first to reject me, and you are the only one who can create another as hideous as me so that they would not fear me, and I would no longer be alone. I promise you, if you do that for me, I will have no quarrel with humanity, and I will take my companion far from human civilization so that we may live together in peace.”

I took my head in my hands, disgusted by the thought. How could I create another? Desecrate innumerable more innocents in order to build up another creature with the capability to become a murderer like the first? The thought made me sick.

However, I could sense his honesty. His loneliness and desperation. Frightening as his eyes were, their bold stare gave no hint of lying. I was the one who had created him, so I knew it was my responsibility alone to atone for his creation. I had no chance of dispatching him where no one else had, of course, but additionally, as the source of his suffering, I should be the one to ease it.

I shuddered as I felt myself give in. “I shall,” I told him. “I will make a woman for you. So long as you keep your word and take her where you will harm no one else.”

His delight was obvious as he swore to it, even as my soul felt weighed under the knowledge of what I must do.

I do not remember how I got back home. No one was awake to see me. I fell into my bed and fell into a troubled sleep.

The next day, I saw that I still had Naminé’s necklace, so I hid it among my things. How could I possibly explain to my family how I got it? How could I explain to them what I had done and what I needed to do again? I hid in my room for a time to figure out a story, and I told them only that I needed to go on a vacation for a time, I needed some time alone and I likely wouldn’t be able to stay in contact.

They were obviously confused, worried, even upset, but I insisted until they gave in and agreed to let me have time to myself. My father, though, took me aside to talk to me.

“I know our family has been a victim of repeated tragedy, and I know you need some time to process this senseless loss, but I also want our family to have happiness and heal once again.” He smiled, but my discomfort was swift when he continued. “As soon as you return from your journey, it would make me happier than anything to finally have you and Naminé be wed.”

What could I do other than agree? I had delayed as long as I could reasonably expect to, but how much longer could I avoid it? How much longer would I wait for my feelings towards men to vanish and be replaced by affection for Naminé? At least we could bring our family some happiness.

After hearing this, I felt a bit of relief that I must be away for a while to give myself time to mentally fortify myself.

It took me a day to pack and privately plan where I would search to try to find a suitable place, during which time I told my friends as well what I would be doing.

Hayner seemed disappointed that I would not be returning to the university with him, but he did not argue with me. The evening of my final day in my hometown, after dinner with my family, he and I took a bottle of whiskey and went out into the fields we had played in as children. Together, we drank and looked at the stars and talked.

The more I drank, the more I regretted everything I’d done and how I had to soon leave him for an unknown length of time to commit terrible crimes again. I kept enough self-control that I did not confess the true reason I had to leave, but I’m afraid what I did say and do may have been worse.

I admit, I do not perfectly remember our conversation, but I shall attempt to record something like what we said to each other.

He told me with bare irritation how his parents had been asking about his romantic prospects despite his insistence that he’d been too busy with his studies to meet many women. I told him how, as soon as I returned from my time away, Naminé and I would be married.

My fear and upset must have been plain on my face as he looked at me and asked, “You don’t want to marry her?”

I shook my head. I insisted she was wonderful and I did love her, but not like that, but both of my parents wanted it for us, so what could she or I do?

He made a sympathetic face and apologized then asked if there was another I had feelings for.

I looked at him, and he was so handsome, and my mind was so addled by the alcohol that I nodded. Of course, he was curious and asked who it was.

I hate to even write what happened next, but I reached out and took a hold of his hand and leaned close and stared into his eyes as I told him I loved him. I was so drunk I actually expected him to kiss me! I genuinely believed for a moment that he would return my affections and insist we elope and run from our families and be happy together for the rest of our lives!

Instead, he recoiled from me, yanked his hand away from mine. He stared at me, aghast, and my heart sank. His brow furrowed slightly as he turned away, glanced back at me once more, then hurriedly walked away.

I was left swaying in place, stunned. I stood there for a long time before I headed back home to sleep before my journey.

When I awoke, I was shaken with humiliation and heartbreak as I packed my belongings on a horse and bid goodbye to my family. Though I was terrified, I dared stop at Hayner’s home to say a final goodbye, to try to pretend nothing had happened, hoping he had forgotten or dismissed it.

When he came to the door, though, my hopes were dashed. He scowled at me, looking at me as if I were filthy.

I did my best to smile and said, “I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

He took a breath and shook his head slightly and muttered, “Last night never happened.” Then he closed the door.

I felt numb. I went to the horse and rode from town, and a part of me wanted to ride into the wilderness and let nature swallow me so that I may simply disappear and let all of my sins vanish with me.

But, in spite of my despair, I knew that I had a responsibility to ensure my creation would hurt no one else, so at every city and town I came to, I stopped to let my horse rest and investigated for a suitably populace cemetery and somewhere suitably private to work, and I bought the supplies I did not own. Perhaps my resolution to do this was strengthened because, everywhere I went, I saw from the corner of my eye a tall and terrible figure watching me from a distance in the shadows. I wondered if he was intending to intimidate me into following through, but I was so distressed by what I had left behind that his presence didn’t bother me.

After a few days, I was able to find a suitable place, this time in an abandoned cabin that was out of sight of the city so that whatever I created would be able to leave without being seen. I set up the equipment I was able to bring with me and lost no time scavenging.

And so it began. At first, I struggled when confronted by the smell and sight of the dead bodies I ravaged. I was shaken to think how I had once done this so easily. Though I knew better what I was doing than I did the first time, it was every bit as difficult to procure suitable parts, and I often wondered if the man I had created would find what I was creating suitable. He asked for a companion as hideous as himself, and I doubt I could have possibly made her beautiful even if I had wanted to, but what if they found each other too terrible to even look at? I had chosen parts for him based on my own taste, but nothing I picked for the woman seemed right. I did my best to accept that, now that I was of sound mind, nothing of this would feel right.

Through all my work, I often saw the creature watching the cabin I resided in from the trees. At first, I paid him no mind, such was my distress, but as I became numb to my actions, my thoughts returned to what I had left behind and what was awaiting my return home, and I became desperate for something to distract me. So, one night, as I returned to the cabin exhausted and filthy from the graves I desecrated, I saw him watching me and threw the bag of salvaged body parts inside then approached him.

He stiffened and watched me, likely confused and perhaps even worried of my intentions.

I stared up at him and said, “Come inside. If you have nothing better to do than watch me, you can help me.”

A smile crossed his face, but I didn’t wait for his response and walked silently back to the cabin, and he entered close behind me. He had to hunch over to stand inside the building, but he did not complain.

He seemed excited at the sight of the partial body laying on the floor, and that comforted me slightly. He stayed quiet that night while I instructed him how he could help me. Having read my notebook on his creation, he knew plenty to assist me without too much difficulty, and having someone to talk to in a plain, instructive manner soothed me somewhat.

We worked for a time with that strictly sterile communication. He would find food to help feed both of us while I searched graveyards. I shared with him the food I bought for myself. We only discussed what was necessary to work together.

Then a day came where I decided to allow myself a break from searching through the dead. My body was sore and exhausted, so I sat and mended my clothes which had been torn during my grim work.

He seemed surprised to see me there when he returned with a deer slung over his shoulder, but he didn’t speak initially, just watched me while he prepared the meat to cook over the fire that burned in the corner of the room. It wasn’t until he was done butchering that he fully faced me and spoke, asking if I was taking a break.

I flinched, suddenly worried that he may be upset about my blatant delaying the creation of his companion, but I said that I was.

I was surprised that he didn’t seem upset. He even chuckled. “I assumed that you wanted to finish and be rid of me as quickly as possible. Return to your family and forget me.”

I stopped sewing for a moment before I looked at him. Over the days spent at work together, I had stopped cringing at the sight of him. There is a limit to how many times you can be shocked seeing the same nightmarish figure daily, and I had become used to him. “No, I’m in no rush,” I admitted.

He was visibly surprised. “Why not?”

Tears quickly came to my eyes, but I had accepted without needing to think about it that I could say anything to him. How could he tell anyone else? “I have nothing to look forward to back at home. I must marry and start a family with someone I do not want to be with in that way, and I ruined my closest friendship.” I pressed my face into my hands as I cried. “I have been given everything in my life to be happy, but there’s something so sick in me that I have nothing to look forward to once I’m done with this task!”

He did not speak, but I may as well have forgotten he was there as I cried, mentally tormenting myself recalling all of my sins that made me deserve the sad life that awaited me. I shook my head as a grim laugh escaped me. “I hope that, at least, committing the sin of creating another life will give you some happiness, and I can do something good for something in this world.”

He laughed, and the sound startled me momentarily, and he asked, “Is my creator really such a terrible person that he can only do good for the very abomination he created?”

“He is,” was all I could say before losing my voice to crying again. It took me several minutes before I could calm myself enough to return to my mending. He remained silent for the rest of the night, tending the fire and pushing some of the deer to me once it was cooked. Little did I know I had aroused his curiosity.

After taking a break, I was loath to return to my task, but, the next day, I tried to set my mind to what I needed to do. He accosted me before I had a chance to leave, however.

“Tell me, I’m curious, what other terrible things have you done beyond creating me?” he asked. He had a terrible smirk on his face, for the first time I was genuinely seeing him look upon me with some malice. I assumed he sought to torment me for the misfortune I was responsible for, but I was still in a state where the prospect did not bother me. I, perhaps, longed to be derided and punished for my wrongs.

I told him about my mother’s death and how I had failed her by remaining engrossed in my studies until her final days, but he only sneered in response. “You say this to an abomination that has murdered your fellow humans, and you expect me to think worse of you for it?”

I cannot say what overcame me in that moment; I wanted to wallow in self-pity, or I wanted him to be disgusted by me, or I was so disgusted by myself that I could no longer contain it. “I don’t care what you think!” I snapped. “I am an abomination as much as you! Only I have the misfortune of looking like any other man, so I cannot reject humanity and run away from my responsibilities!”

His nostrils flared as he looked down at me. “You’re daring to try to make me feel pity for you?”

I was crying again, but this time in anger and frustration. “I don’t care what you think of me!” I repeated, yet I continued trying to convince him. “Only your appearance drives you away from humanity, but my very soul is an aberration! And I gave in to all the foul thoughts and feelings in me even as I told myself I was fighting them! If Hayner tells anyone else what I did to him, I would be shunned or attacked as you are, and I would deserve it!”

“What did you do?” he asked, tone remaining harsh, and perhaps he wanted me to admit to being more depraved than him.

“I told him I had feelings for him!” I believe I yelled this. Admitting this while sober made me feel like my chest was in a vise, and I struggled to breathe enough to continue speaking. “I’ve had feelings for him for years! I should have figured out by now how to stop feeling like this for men, but I haven’t!”

At last, I surprised him into silence. I glared at him as if to provoke him into continuing to shout at me, but he just stared, squinting at me in bald confusion. “Your crime was...having feelings for your friend?”

A fresh wave of tears overcame me as I nodded.

“How is that a crime comparable to my creation?”

I groaned in frustration, and the implications of what his confusion meant did not reach me. At most, I thought that he wanted me to explain in detail to torment me more, so I tormented myself by explaining. “Because he is a man! All of my life, I’ve had feelings for men, but I loved him! And the older and more sick I got, the more comfortable with it I got until I told him! If I had any strength in me at all, I would have forgotten all of my sick thoughts towards men and found a happy, normal life for myself, but I gave in, and now he thinks the worst of me, and I deserve it!”

He remained visibly confused, and in my frustration and passion, I threw up my hands and left, heading to the cemetery I had planned to search, but my thoughts were far elsewhere. I had never loathed myself more in my life, but the hours I spent laboriously unearthing the dead served to calm me somewhat by the time I returned.

He was still in the cabin, still plainly perturbed by my words. I tried to avoid looking at him, sure he was thinking me as being as disgusting as Hayner did when I tried to say goodbye to him. When he spoke, I flinched, too exhausted now to continue my self-deprecating tirade. “I don’t mean this as an insult,” he said slowly, “but I genuinely don’t understand what you mean saying your feelings make you an abomination.”

I tried to focus on what I was doing to stave off my own miserable thoughts, but my hands kept fumbling my equipment as I was distracted. Being calmer, I realized that he, given little close relation to humanity, truly was ignorant to what I spoke of. “It’s not natural,” I tried to explain. “I am a man, so I shouldn’t have feelings like that towards other men, it goes against basic instincts I should have to have a family.” I finally glanced to him then to the half-complete body of a woman on the floor. “Even you, whose existence defies all natural order, desire a woman for companionship! Even you abide by that basic law of nature, yet I let myself defy it!”

He was quiet for a while, and I imagined what terrible things he must think of me, until he spoke again: “What’s wrong with that? Surely, I am utterly unqualified to speak of nature, but if you have already allowed something such as myself to exist, what is wrong with allowing your own emotions?” Unexpectedly, he became tense. “Sora and Riku loved each other the same as they loved Kairi, yet for all the time I spent watching them, what wrong did their feelings do? Perhaps that is why they lived so far from others… But natural or not, their love made them happy! What’s wrong with that?” He did not give me a chance to answer, standing up and glaring at me. “You project your desire for ‘normalcy’ on the creature you created! I asked for a companion, but I never requested they be a woman! I wouldn’t have thought anything of any gender you had decided to make! Before now, I had never thought that men loving each other was at all abnormal, but even if I had, you think that would matter to me? Why would I seek to abide by what’s natural? I don’t even feel it’s accurate to identify me as a man, but you are the one who decided to think that I’m ‘natural’ in some way you are not.”

If I’d had the strength for anger, I’m sure I would have found a way to argue and insist that there was something wrong with me, but, tired as I was, I couldn’t think of a rebuttal, so I turned my attention to my work even as I flushed with guilt, though I wasn’t entirely sure why I felt guilt. When I stayed silent, he eventually sat down again.

Even as I performed tasks he had previously helped with, he remained still and watched me, and I did not request help. Though I did not know them, I felt bad for insinuating that Sora and Riku were sick like me when I’d heard they were good people. I struggled to process what my creation had meant by disregarding the potential gender of his companion as well as his own. I instinctively wanted to insist that he had asked for a woman as, from the moment of his request, I felt sure that was what he wanted, but when I recalled his exact words, I was forced to admit to myself that I had decided for him.

When my hands became sore from the work, I stopped and took a seat in my chair to rest. “I’m sorry,” I said and looked across the room to him at last.

Not looking away from me, he smiled crookedly and shook his head. “Humans truly are every bit as terrible as I am.”

I chuckled in a weak agreement and told him, “There is no sin you’ve committed that humans haven’t a million times over.”

This conversation ended the animosity between us, and he resumed helping me create his companion. We talked more from that night on, and now more personally. He told me more details about what he had gone through. I told him about my life and why I had done the terrible things I did. I began to take the clothing I found with the bodies I profaned and I sewed clothes that fit his body, if imperfectly, then clothes for his incomplete companion as well. We would take breaks together and sit outside in the fresh air while we talked, and his companionship gave me back the feeling of friendship I was sure I had lost.

During this time, he began wondering whether he needed a name. I found his questioning funny, but I agreed that it made sense for him to want. I spent time thinking of names to suggest, and I told him parts of stories with names I thought he might like. I wasn’t surprised that he was interested in a legend I told him about the first man and how he began the human race out of loneliness, and he felt a connection with the name of that man: Axel. It warmed my heart how much it pleased him to be called by name.

Gradually, though, I again became melancholy as we made progress with Axel’s companion. Axel’s excitement grew with each passing day, and though I was happy that the day would soon come to end his loneliness, I could see my own loneliness approaching. If Hayner had chosen to keep what I’d said to himself, I would still no longer have him as a friend and would have to focus my life to being a good husband for Naminé, to try my best to make her happy in spite of our uncomfortable circumstances. If Hayner had shared what happened, everyone I had ever loved would turn their backs on me. I could not decide which I dared hoped for: a “normal” life that filled me with dread or freedom at the cost of everything I knew.

I could not hide my somber mood from Axel, though. I had estimated we were approximately a month from completing his companion when, while we sat under a full moon, he took my hand.

I was quite startled. We had never touched while we worked, and, for some reason, the warmth of his skin surprised me. Though his skin kept a sickly hue, he was every bit as alive as I, so it made sense that he would be as warm as any living human. It had been so long since I had felt the comfort of someone’s touch, I didn’t want to speak or move in case he took his hand away.

“Are you going to be okay when this is done?” he asked, hunching over to look straight at my face.

I forced a smile, but I saw no reason to lie to him and admitted, “I don’t know.”

For perhaps a full minute, he just stared at me. Do not doubt that he is a disaster of discordant flesh, but his expression had such softness and concern, I found him as handsome as any man I’d seen in my life. “I suppose you can’t.” He looked away from me with a faint smile. “We can’t know whether things will be okay when this is done. As thrilling as it is to witness the methods that gave birth to me, I’m nervous who will awaken from that body. For all I know, she will hate me for forcing you to give her life and forcing her to share my curse. Or she and I may simply not get along. How could we know?”

He sighed and let go of my hand to lay on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the night sky. I silently looked over his lengthy body. It was alternately bony and lumpy with imperfectly matched musculature, but I had grown used to it enough I could simply be amazed that, somehow, I had made a functioning body. It was fascinating how it moved. But, at that time, I could only be sad thinking how, after he and his companion left, I would never see this nightmarish marvel I had created again.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish I could guarantee you some happiness.” On an impulse, I blurted, “Perhaps, once she is finished, I should stay and help you teach her,” however, I silently berated myself the moment I said it. After all, once she was completed, I would be the outsider. Axel was intelligent, what use would there be for me to linger while they got to know each other? “Sorry, that was silly of me. You wouldn’t need me for that,” I said quietly and got to my feet to go back inside and go back to work.

He stayed outside for a while longer and, when he followed me, he seemed equally glum, and I felt guilty for hurting his excitement. Unsure what to say to make amends for upsetting him, I kept quiet. I only wanted to do what I could to try to make Axel happy. However, the thought lingered at the back of my mind that, perhaps, Axel and the woman would not get along. If so, I would simply be creating another abomination to stand alone. I would only be adding more misery to the world.

I thought of how comforting it had felt when he touched my hand.

The next day, I went outside before sunset to try to come to terms with all that was weighing on my mind. I truly could no longer bear to think about losing this companionship for the sake of the sad life that awaited me.

As the sky became its most brilliant crimson, Axel joined me outside.

I spoke before he could and asked, “Would you object to me staying with you instead of returning home?”

Though I kept my face forward when I spoke, I looked up at his face for his response. His smile spoke of delight and relief. “Of course not. I bear you no ill will after all you’ve done for my sake.”

I do not know why, but this overwhelmed me with emotion, and tears flooded my eyes. “Please forgive me, but I’m afraid to finish creating your companion. I can control her physical shape, but I have no way to ensure that you and she will get along, and the idea that you will not, and you and she will go separate ways and experience even more loneliness and misery terrifies me.” My voice broke, but I forced myself to finish what I intended to say to him. “The only thing that frightens me more is the thought of losing your companionship. I cannot stand the thought of no longer having someone with whom I have no need to hide.”

I was terrified as I watched his smile vanish. He looked away from me and ran a hand through his hair, then he sank into a crouch so that our faces were closer. “I feel the same,” he admitted when he looked up into my eyes. “I do not know the woman I expect to be my companion, but you? I know you. I enjoy your company. Continuing what we’re doing will gamble with the life of what we’re creating and my own happiness and will guarantee your misery. I don’t want that.”

Despite the tears in my eyes, I smiled at him. “You would accept me as a companion instead of a creature of your own kind?”

He nodded. “I have only ever wanted acceptance. If you will give that to me, I would need no one else.”

I was crying freely as I reached to take both of his hands in mine and whispered, “You have it. You accept the part of me that even I rejected. That means more to me than I could ever tell you.”

He pulled me into an embrace, and, held in his strong arms, I have never known such comfort and relief.

Later that night, he and I took the incomplete body and buried her behind the cabin. Though it did not make up for what I had done collecting the parts that made her, I am glad that the bodies I desecrated could return to rest in some way.

Since then, we have been discussing what we shall do and where we will go. Though this cabin has served its purpose, it is too small for his comfort, and it will likely always have the stains from the bodies I brought in. We would like to start over somewhere new. Perhaps we will even build a place for us to live that will suit his height better. We have discussed going back to Kairi and Riku and Sora so that I may help facilitate him apologizing to them. Perhaps we will think of a way to help them so that we may ask them for help.

I sent a letter to my family, apologizing and explaining that I would not return home, though I did not go into too much detail. The idea of admitting everything I’d done directly to them is still terrifying, even as I said goodbye to them for the last time. I sent Naminé’s necklace with the letter and let them know that Ventus’ murderer was brought to justice, so I hope to have given them some relief. Perhaps someone will come across this letter to myself, and it will get back to them, but I will be far enough away that I am not so afraid of that. I miss them, and I always will, but though it hurts, I know that they could never accept who I am, so I know it will be better for all of us if I find my life away from them. Naminé is a wonderful woman, and I know she will have a happier life without starting a family with me.

I have been truly happy at times in my life. I love my family and my friends, and I have been happy with them, but the happiness that I have with Axel is unlike any I’ve ever known. For all the stress of not knowing whether we will be able to find safety and security, knowing he cares for me despite knowing all my sins gives me a limitless sense of peace and love I cannot bear to give up.

Yes, in spite of what he is, I think I love him. His appearance does not bother me. His past actions, though terrible, do not matter to me, as I know they were the result of his desperation and hurt that I was responsible for in part. It makes me so happy the way he speaks, the way he looks at me, the way he embraces me. I love him.

I hope we will find a place to settle down, and I think then I will let him know how I feel. The way he speaks, the way he looks at me, the way he embraces me, I feel like, maybe, he feels the same.

It’s frightening, I admit, as I dared to think like this before, but I keep reminding myself that, even if he does not feel the same, he will not shun me or think less of me for my feelings, and our friendship will not be ruined. Regardless, I am still too afraid to admit it to him now, and I hope my courage will build by the time we find somewhere to live.

I’m scared as we prepare to move on. I have lived in this cabin with him for months, apart from all the advantages I had been given from birth, so I have gotten used to the difficulties we will have to live with. It will be worth it, though, of that I am sure.

We will find happiness together. I know it.

-Roxas Victors

_ On the next page, the messy handwriting resumes. _

My name is Axel. I am an abomination created by a man who feels he, too, is an abomination, and I truly believe I shall be eternally grateful to him for giving me life then filling my life with happiness and love like I used to dream of.

Roxas let me know that he would be writing his story, and of course I wrote about my own life as well. I was created so large that it, honestly, is a bit difficult to hold his pen and write, but I was surprised how cathartic it was to commit my feelings to paper!

He allowed me to read what he had written before I contributed my story, and he never asked that I did not read the rest. We are ready to leave this evening, so while he slept, I was curious about his perspective of the time after I told him my story, so I decided to read it. I expect he meant to tell me he did not want me to read the rest of what he wrote, but it’s far too late now! Honestly, I am trying not to laugh as I write this! I won’t let him know that I did, not right away, to save him embarrassment.

I love him. I truly believe that I do. Let me assure anyone who may come upon this and feel sympathy for him, I will return his feelings in full when he is ready to confess to me. I cannot understand the fear he feels for hating this part of himself all his life and having his best friend reject his feelings so cruelly, so I will do my best not to pressure him, but I will also do what I can to reassure him.

I’m strangely grateful that I had to leave Riku and Kairi and Sora. Though I had wanted them to love me, I expect that I would have been a rude interference in their life, I doubt they would have loved me like they loved each other, and I don’t think I could have come to love them the way I love Roxas, and Roxas would have been trapped in a life that forced him to keep part of himself hidden. I sincerely hope I will have the chance to apologize, but I’m glad things did not work out. I hope that Roxas will get a chance to meet them, and I’m sure they will accept the things he struggles to accept in himself, and perhaps will help him accept himself. If we do not see them, I will do what I can to help him love all of himself as I do.

We will leave this place when he wakes. Terrible though my body may be, it is strong, and I will use it to care for and protect him. And I will love him with all of me.


End file.
